


Alone

by RiBread



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:14:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21690781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiBread/pseuds/RiBread
Summary: Barry J. Bluejeans, fighter and mercenary, encounters an all-too familiar stranger.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Alone

Barry tried to listen to the coin. He really did. It’s just that the strange artifact that spoke in his voice and knew way too much about some things didn’t know ANYTHING about others.

Such as, for example, what to do if you got totally lost, by yourself, in some creepy woods looking for a “subterranean demonic keep” for a reason it never bothered to explain to you. According to the coin, these messages were something new He– other Barry?– was trying out, so Barry guessed He was bound to forget to mention some things. Barry had never had that great a memory, anyway, so maybe the coin just forgot to, you know, leave him a map. To make matters worse, the coin had been annoyingly silent ever since Barry had gotten to the forest. It seemed to activate, somehow, when he reached certain places, so the fact it had been quiet this long probably meant the next message would be once he reached his destination. Which, at this rate, was never going to happen.

The sun was beginning to go down, and Barry was just starting to think about making camp for the night when an odd sound reached his ears. A strange moaning sound, like something in pain. An animal in a trap? No, there was something… else about it. Something that pulled at Barry’s heart, oddly near that deep hole, that missing piece that the coin had mentioned. Could this be what he was looking for? It didn’t seem quite right, but it was the first lead he’d had in a while. He followed the sound deeper into the woods. The closer it drew, the more clearly human it sounded, until finally he placed it. This was the sound of a woman sobbing, hard and breathless and so deeply wounded that Barry’s empty heart echoed in sympathetic pain.

Almost as soon as he had the thought, the trees seemed to fold away into a small clearing, and Barry’s eyes fell on a figure huddled on a fallen log. Dark skinned and white haired, maybe 50 or so, with light colored robes that would have been grand had every inch of her not been streaked with blood and grime. Barry’s heart pounded relentlessly in his chest. If the coin spoke, he was too caught up to hear, and he wasn’t sure he even cared. He found himself stepping forward, recklessly, rushing in like… like…

“Excuse me? You’re injured. Can I– can I help?”

The woman’s head shot up, her face streaked with blood and tears, and immediately her expression contorted into a mask of what Barry could only categorize as pure horror. He held up his hands in front of him, confused, and halted his approach.

“Hey, sorry to startle you. My name’s Barry J. Bluejeans, I’m just here to kick some demon ass. No harm meant.” The woman just continued to stare at him, her mouth moving silently, and he shuffled awkwardly in place. “I mean, uh… fuck, what happened to you? You, uh, look pretty bad. I have a med kit here somewhere, if you want.”

Finally, she seemed to unfreeze, and every so slowly, she nodded and sat up straighter on the log, reclaiming some of her dignity. Her voice, though still shaky and thick with tears, held an unyielding gravitas that Barry had to respect.

“That would… be deeply appreciated, thank you.” She wrapped a hand tightly around the pale wooden staff she carried, seeming to lean on it for support. Barry obligingly dug his med kit out of his pack, and moved to her. As he got closer, she shifted her bloodstained robes to reveal an angry gash across her hip and abdomen, blackened along the edges as if some necrotic residue remained from whatever attack had done this. Barry tried to help, holding some bandages, but her hands were quick and practice as she dressed the wound and even took a bit of a healing potion offered to her. After a few minutes of nearly silent work, She straightened up again, and gave a tired half smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“So, Barry, what brings you out into the Felicity Wilds this late at night?”

Barry scratched his head, pondering the question for a moment. “I’m… kind of a sellsword, you could say. Fightin’ things. I heard there was some sort of demon keep out beyond the forest, and I’m supposed to be checking it out.”

“The Infernal Ruin.” Her expression closed off, eyeing him almost suspiciously. “An interesting place for a sellsword, but I’m sure you’ll find plenty of evil to fight there.” She tugged her staff close again. “…No magic yourself, then?”

“Nope. Just a simple fighter and bodyguard, not much else.”

“Good.” Barry shot her a confused look, but she wasn’t looking at him, her expression inscrutable as she stared into the gathering shadows of the Wilds. “Magic brings more trouble than it’s worth.”

Barry shook his head, leaning forward a bit. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but… what happened to you? I know you’re supposed to say you look fine, but in all honesty you look like literal hell.”

She gave a short, humorless laugh. “Well, I certainly feel like it. I was in a place… a very bad place. A place called… Wonderland.” Barry could see a shiver wrack her exhausted form at the word. “I don’t know you, but… if you happen to run across anything like that in these woods, no matter what it offers you… stay away, Barry. Just get out of there. Promise me.”

“Alright. No Wonderland, got it.”

Something inside Barry tugged at him again, and somehow he warred for just a moment between spitting in this strange woman’s face and hugging her like he’d never hugged anyone before. Neither option made much sense, so he compromised by awkwardly patting her on the shoulder. She flinched as though burned when his hand touched her, but didn’t pull away. She did not meet his eyes, and idly he wondered if she could tell the weird turn his thoughts had taken, if she could read his mind somehow. He pushed the ridiculous thought away, and they sat in awkward, but oddly companionable silence for a long while. She finally broke it by pulling away, and heaving herself up on her white staff.

“…I should really be making camp, since I’m clearly not making it out of these woods tonight.” She eyed him sidelong, expression carefully guarded. “I am skilled at abjuration, I can provide protection for both of us tonight so we can sleep safely and go our separate ways in the morning.”

“Sounds fine to me. I have some rations I can heat over a fire, if you want.” She nodded shortly, and turned away from him before beginning to cast her spell. Barry shrugged, ignoring the all that handwaving nonsense, and set to making a fire.

They slept on opposite sides of the clearing, The woman setting up her own small magical hut as far away from Barry’s tent as possible, but he could still hear her labored, uneven breathing. Whether from pain or from nightmares he didn’t know, but his own sleep was as empty and black as it always was. With the first hint of sunrise she was gone, without another word, but she left her barrier up. Somehow, he got the feeling she wanted to protect him, even if she could only do so indirectly.

Days later, when Barry rose up from his clawed and torn body in the depths of the keep, of yet another FUCKING dead end, yet another body spent and no closer to any of his goals, no closer to _Lup_ , Lucretia was fresh in his mind. Lucretia, older, somehow, but there was no denying it had been her.

Her.

Her.

And Barry J. Bluejeans, the lich, alone and barely holding on, screamed.


End file.
